


Love’s One Deadline

by Sunset_Butterflies



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Domestic Fluff, Exams, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I relate to both of them on a spiritual level, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Post-Canon, Sleep Deprivation, Studying, a lot of feelings, college stress, domestic snowbaz, supportive boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22297258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunset_Butterflies/pseuds/Sunset_Butterflies
Summary: Simon and Baz finally get used to living a normal life. They take care of each other during exam season and make sure they both meet their deadlines and don’t die in the process.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	Love’s One Deadline

**Author's Note:**

> My life has led me back to the SnowBaz fandom and I’m absolutely in love with these two, so I just couldn’t help myself and wrote a short fic about them!

**Baz**

After taking an exam at 4 o'clock, I come home at half past six. I take my coat off and continue to the living room. Simon isn't there, so I turn around and head towards our bedroom. (A lot has changed in the past year. Simon agreeing to move in with me might be the biggest change, although his physical affection towards me is a close second.)

I finally find him there. His hair is a mess, he's still got his pyjamas on and I don't think he's moved at all ever since I left for the exam. His wings and tail are hidden away (I figured out a spell that allows him to make them appear and disappear at will. He still doesn't want to get rid of them completely and I will never pressure him into it. In fact, I like them a lot.) and there's a laptop lying in his lap. He's got his reading glasses on, but even that doesn't hide the fact that his eyes look tired. And red.

Simon had been crying.

“Baz?” he looks up at me. Although he doesn't look distressed right now, I know him well enough to know that something's up.

“Hi,” I walk over to his side of the bed and sit down next to him. After planting a soft kiss on his cheek, I pull back to look him in the eyes. “How's it going?”

“I've just finished a rough draft of an essay that's due at midnight,” he sighed. “Baz, I'm not sure I can do this.”

“Of course you can,” I take his hands that had been hovering above the keyboard into mine. They are shaking, albeit subtly. I frown.

“When was the last time you slept?” I ask, not mentioning the crying. Everyone has their weak moments during exams.

“I-,” he looks at me apologetically.

“Simon,” I sigh, brushing my fingers through his hair. “You've been working non-stop. At least take a 90-minute nap.”

He stares blankly ahead, seriously considering the offer. “Will you wake me up if I sleep any longer than that?” He looks exhausted, and it tugs at my heart that he's been working so hard on this and I have to let him finish it.

“Okay.” I put the laptop away and cover him with a blanket. “Get some sleep. I'll make dinner and wake you up when it's ready.”

I stay with him until he's asleep, massaging his scalp. Then I stand up, careful not to wake him, and start preparing dinner.

He started a Doctor of Physical Therapy degree once we had dealt with the situation at Watford. He's also been seeing a therapist, and on his good days, I recognize him as the Simon I first fell in love with. He's finally coming back to me.

He still has his bad days, of course. (We both do.) Sometimes, it's because of stressing over his degree, other times it's simply the immeasurable weight of existence that gets to every single one of us from time to time. But unlike last year, his eyes are filled with hope. And I will do anything to keep that little shimmer of hope alive.

——

An hour and a half later, my phone rings, prompting me to go wake Simon up. I walk into the bedroom and oh, Crowley, he's a sight. His cheeks are rosy (and he instantly looks better after having slept a little, that just isn't fair) and his hair is falling into his eyes. I sit on the bed next to him and gently brush the strands of hair out of his face. Then I lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Wake up, Snow. Dinner's ready.”

“Mhmm,” Simon opens his eyes, his lips curving into a dozy smile. “I'll be there in a minute.”

I nod and return to the kitchen. Taking two bowls, I split the soup into two portions. (I always give Simon the bigger portion. He loves my cooking and I love making delicious meals for him. Besides, it's not like food has a nutritious value for me anyway. I've gone hunting in the morning and I feel sated for at least a couple of days.)

I put the bowls on a food tray and carry them to the living room. Simon's already seated himself on the couch. He's even brought his laptop with him, meaning he plans to continue his essay here after dinner. (A good choice, because the couch isn't nearly as comfortable as the bed and the chances of accidentally falling asleep before submitting it are significantly reduced. Not that I'd let him fall asleep, anyway. We look after one another to make sure we meet the deadlines and don't die in the process.)

I set the tray down on the coffee table and hand one bowl to Simon. We eat in silence and when he's finished, he places the bowl back on the tray and opens his laptop again.

**Simon**

My head is pounding and my eyes have gone dry from all the crying and looking at the screen for a long period of time, but I have to power through. Baz's hand brushes against my shoulder before he gets up and takes the tray to the kitchen.

He comes back several minutes later, hands me a mug of coffee and plops down on the couch next to me.

“As soon as it's finished, you are coming to the bedroom with me and sleeping at least 9 full hours. Okay?”

“Okay,” I nod, feeling a bit loopy.

He stays by my side, working on his own stuff until I finally hit the 'submit' button at 11:56 pm.

“Done?” He asks and as soon as I nod, he practically rips the laptop out of my hands.

“Bed.”

——

When I wake up the next morning, I roll around and notice that Baz is already awake. He's got his laptop propped up on his knees.

“Got an essay due?” I mumble, not bothering to sound awake.

“That too, but my grades from last week's exams are out,” he looks away from the computer and his gaze settles on me like I'm the most important thing in the world. “How are you?”

“Much better now,” I say, sitting up. I move to get closer to him, hugging him from behind. “Thank you for yesterday. I don't know what I would've done without you.”

“You would've done - and you have done the same for me,” he chuckles quietly, his left hand running over my forearms that are wrapped around his neck. Then he turns back to the screen.

“So, what did you get?” I peek over his shoulder and try to decipher the letters on the screen, even though I don't have my reading glasses on.

“92%, and 76%...” he shrugs. “Didn't think that exam had gone well anyway. But the funny thing is, I apparently got 87% on an essay that I pulled out of my ass at 3 am the day it was due.” He laughs. He should laugh more often because his laugh is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard.

“I remember that night,” I hum, recalling the hectic evening, and kiss his cheek. I glance at the document he’s opened. “When's your next essay due?”

“Technically tomorrow, but I'll try to submit it today. I'm almost halfway done,” he says, putting the laptop down. “Are you hungry?”

“I am, actually,” I nod. “What about you?”

“I've already had breakfast, and I drank yesterday. Don't worry.”

Giving him a brief smile, I get up and walk to the kitchen to make breakfast. When I return with a plate and a cup of tea, Baz has already resumed writing his essay. Not wanting to interrupt him, I sit on the bed next to him and after finishing my meal, I go get my laptop from the couch where I left it last night. I have an exam tomorrow and if I can't spend the whole day cuddling with Baz while watching Netflix, I might as well study.

We spend the rest of the day sitting next to each other, both engaged in our respective work while also enjoying the quiet company of each other. At one point, I lean against Baz. He doesn't seem to mind it, so I only pull away after the bell rings (we decided that ordering a pizza was a good decision considering how focused we both were; cooking a meal from scratch would most likely distract us). When I come back with the pizza box and set it down on the bed between us, we both take a piece before Baz leans against me. I don't mind it either.

“How's your essay coming along?” I ask around 6 pm. It's already dark out, and I know Baz must be quite thirsty by now because he hasn't gone hunting yet.

“I'm just about done,” he says. “What about you?”

“I've got the most important things down,” I say, letting my hand slip into his hair, caressing it softly. “I've been studying the whole day, much unlike my usual study routine. You're a good influence on me, I believe,” I smile, and he looks at me. I stare lovingly into his eyes.

“I'm glad,” he says. “What time do you have the exam tomorrow?”

“2 pm. I actually thought that we could go to sleep earlier today and I'd wake up early tomorrow to study a bit more in the morning.”

“Simon Snow, waking up early in the morning on his own?” Baz chuckles. “You never stop surprising me.”

I shrug. He stares at me for a few seconds, and then leans in and kisses me. It's brief, but still so passionate and calm at the same time—just like Baz.

He pulls away, and I notice that his breathing had sped up.

“Give me an hour to finish this,” he says, and I could swear he's even blushing a little bit, “then I'm all yours.”

“Okay,” I smile and start going over the exam documents once again.

**Baz**

I submit the essay just after 7 pm. I look at Simon—he's clearly bored. And not because he finds the material uninteresting, but because he's memorized most of the information. It's incredible how fast he can memorize things when he's focused.

“I'm done,” I say, and he looks at me with that spark in his eyes, the one I would die for all over again.

“Good,” he smiles and puts his laptop down. I do the same thing and we both move towards each other, until we're lying in the middle of the bed, Simon's head on my chest, and my fingers in his golden curls. “Aren't you thirsty?” he asks.

“A little,” I admit. “But I drank a lot yesterday. I'll go hunting tomorrow morning.”

Simon's staring up at the ceiling, and I start to wonder what is it he's thinking about.

“Don't you ever miss Watford?” he asks.

“No, in fact, I don't,” I say decidedly. (I know _he_ does. He doesn't say it, but he misses magic much more than he'd care to admit.) “I have everything I need right here next to me.” I pull him closer to me.

We get up eventually to have dinner and then spend the rest of the evening on the couch. (Simon had originally planned to study, but I convinced him to take a break. He would only give himself a headache. Besides, we haven't had much time for each other lately, and I want to make it up to him.) I sit up straight when Simon lays his head in my lap. He doesn't focus on the movie, because he's too busy looking up at me. I bury my fingers in his hair and look into his eyes with a small smile.

Crowley, he's even brighter than the sun.

“Why are we even watching a movie in the first place?” He laughs.

“It's a good background sound,” I admit. “It would be weird to stare at each other in silence, wouldn't it?”

“I don't think so,” he pouts.

“Of course you don't, Snow.” I lean down and kiss him on the forehead. “I'm grateful we finally get time for each other, though I have to admit my hand slipped while choosing the movie this time,” I laugh.

“Just this time?”

”Shut up, Snow.” I try to sound upset but fail miserably.

During the second half of the movie, I notice Simon's eyes start to close. I turn off the TV and decide to carry him to the bedroom instead of convincing him to get up. (It doesn't bother me at all - thanks to my super vampire strength, Simon feels as light as a feather.)

After gently laying him on the bed, I can't help but smile at the sight of Simon sleeping peacefully. As I climb on the bed and wrap my arms around him, the radiating warmth of his body makes me feel alive again, eventually lulling me to sleep.

In the morning, I wake up with a heavy feeling in my head. Although I haven't slept this many hours in a long time, I still feel as though I barely slept at all. It occurs to me then that the corners of my eyes are crusty as if I had been crying.

I start recalling pieces of the terrible dream I had last night. There were vampires surrounding me, blood dripping down their fangs. They hadn’t turned me yet, although they were desperately trying to. I shrug.

“Good morning,” says Simon suddenly, making me jump. (The shrug must've attracted his attention.) He pats my back and I turn to face him. He's definitely been awake for some time because he's got his glasses on and papers with his notes are scattered all over the bed and the bedside table.

“Good morning,” I say. “How long have you been awake?”

“Uh...” he glances at the time in the corner of his screen. “About an hour.”

I sit up. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don't think I can stomach anything right now.”

“You're not leaving this house until you eat something,” I say firmly. “You can't take the exam on an empty stomach.”

“I will eat something,” he reassures me, “later.”

I kiss his cheek before getting up. “You must know the exam material with the back of your head by now, so go make yourself breakfast. I'm going hunting.”

“Okay,” he nods, “I'll try. Be careful, will you?”

“I always am,” I say. My mind is still a bit hazy, probably because I've just got up. “Please don't be in the bathroom when I get back.”

He isn't, so when I get back from hunting (my fangs and mouth covered in half-dried blood, very pleasant), I take a quick shower and find Simon in the living room after putting on my favourite sweatpants and a plain black shirt.

“Here you are,” he says and looks up from the screen to spare me a smile.

“Here I am,” I agree and sit down next to him, putting an arm behind his back. “How are you doing?”

“I ate, hopefully it won't make me feel sick,” he leans into my touch.

“Simon, relax. You'll do great.” I caress his shoulder, purposefully slowing down my breathing. After a while, Simon's breathing matches with mine.

“Did you drink enough?” he turns his head towards me and I can practically feel his breath on my cheek.

“I'm sated for a day or two, yes,” I turn my head in his direction and nuzzle his nose. Through the corner of my eye, I can see Simon's features soften and pull him into a kiss.

We stay like this before Simon has to leave for the exam. When the time comes, I give him a good luck kiss and then he's off.

I spend some time cleaning some of the messiest parts of the flat (thankfully we've learned to clean up after ourselves, more or less), helping myself out with **“Clean as a whistle”**. Then I go over the materials for my next exam, which is happening in about 2 weeks. For once I'm ahead of my schedule.

Simon comes home at half past 4, his hair slightly damp (it's been raining the whole afternoon, a good thing I went hunting in the morning) and all but falls into my embrace when I hug him.

“How do you think you did?” I ask him.

“Pretty good, actually,” Simon smiles, though it only highlights the bags under his eyes. He must be severely sleep-deprived by now (then again, aren't all students?), but he doesn't act tired at all. It will still be best for him if he doesn't do anything productive for the rest of the day, though.

“So, what do you want to-?” I don't even get to finish the sentence.

**Simon**

I kiss him, his soft lips brushing against mine, and my hands instinctively wrap around his neck. He leans into the kiss, but before I know it he's pulling back again, with a sense of panic.

“Simon, stop.”

I do. “Are you okay?” I ask and look him up and down. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and if I could I'd have him right here and right now. But knowing that something isn't quite right, I throw the thought away and pay attention to him. His eyes, his body language, the way his breathing had sped up a little. He definitely looks a little... frightened.

“It's just...,” he lowers his gaze. I gently lift his chin with the pressure of my fingers and look him in the eyes to make sure he's really here with me, paying attention. 

“Talk to me. I’m here for you,” I say, adding the second sentence to reassure him.

“Well...” he touches the base of his neck, the place with the nearly-faded scar that had been there when I met him for the first time. “I had a nightmare last night. Some of my worst memories have resurfaced, and I’m worried could hurt you if I panicked.”

I nod, moving my hands from behind his neck to his shoulders. It happens from time to time that Baz is sensitive in certain places, his pulse point being one of the more frequent ones. (It isn't surprising. If I were Baz, I'd refuse to let anyone touch it at all. But on some days, he likes it. The soft kisses I plant to his throat. It's the furthest I've dared to go, and he knows that I would never bite him or make a mark on his neck - unless he'd ask me to. I would do anything for him, if he asked.)

“Is this okay?” I touch his shoulders lightly and wait for his reaction. He nods and as soon as he does, I start massaging his shoulders.

“Anything below the shoulders is fine,” Baz reminds me.

I slide my hands under his shirt, gently running my fingers along his spine, up to his shoulder blades. I start applying the pressure on the stiff muscles on his back and smile subtly as he starts to relax.

“Better?” I look at him after a few minutes. His eyes are closed and if he looked anxious before, you wouldn't see it on him now.

“Oh, Snow, fuck yes,” he says, and I chuckle. He opens his eyes to look at me. “Where did you learn all this?”

“School?” I remind him with an amused tone. “Maybe my degree is going to be worth all the sleepless nights after all.”

**Baz**

He looks at me and my breath hitches. I feel a bit dizzy.

“Can I take your shirt off?”

“Yeah,” I nod, a shiver running down my spine. Simon Snow can make even asking for consent hot. What can't he do?

He unbuttons my shirt with care and takes it off, then throws it to the other end of the bed.

“Lie on your stomach for me, will you?”

I smirk but comply nonetheless. As I spread out on the bed, I put my hands under my chin.

I feel him hovering above me for a moment before he asks: “Can I sit on your bum?”

“Considering all you've already done with it, I don't think I mind,” I reply playfully.

He starts massaging my back, applying pressure to just the right spots, and my whole body melts under his touch. I think I couldn't tighten a muscle even if I wanted to. My eyes fall closed and my attention shifts to Simon's hands touching my skin.

“Your back is so tense, you should've told me,” he says. “What else do you think I'm doing the degree for?”

Oh, Simon. How could I tell you something I didn't even know about?

“For being able to find a stable job with a decent salary?” I try.

“Well, aside from that, I was kind of hoping it would serve as an excuse to touch you more often,” he laughs.

I feel butterflies in my stomach as I think back to the first time I realized I'd fallen in love with Simon Snow. His laughter, the words he is saying to me, his body in contact with mine is making me feel stupidly in love with him.

“Oh, I'm so lucky to have you,” I say.

Simon Snow is mine. The realization hits me once again, and even though it's been over two years, it still feels like a dream.

“I'm lucky to have _you_ ,” he says, fixing a particularly painful muscle just under my right shoulder. “Because I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for you.” He leans down and kisses the top of my head.

Our relationship has never been easy. We spent the first few years of it trying to kill each other, after all. Then came the Humdrum, and the Mage's death. And the last two years have been difficult for us. But Bunce had been right about America. The trip made us realize that we were willing to fight for whatever was left of our relationship.

It's moments like these that make me want to stop time and spend eternity with him. We got a second chance at this, and I won't throw it away, no matter how hard it may get.

——

“Simon, you've done so well. I'm sure you'll get a good grade.”

We're sitting on the couch, Simon nervously fidgeting with his fingers. The exam results should be out any minute now, and no matter how hard I've tried to reassure him that he's done his best, he just won't calm down.

“It's out!” he gasps. I put my hand on top of his and squeeze it gently.

“Remember, Simon, you've done so well, no matter what the results are,” I say, looking him in the eyes.

He nods and bites his lip nervously, clicking on the link redirecting him to the college website.

“I...” he stops and I watch his eyes dart over the screen, trying to decipher the information.

“I got 95%!”

I sigh in relief and smile, but his hands are already all around me and then he's hugging me. He’s smiling, happiness radiating from him.

“I love you,” he whispers after a while, pulling away from the hug only to kiss me. He tilts my head to the right using two of his fingers on my chin, and I'm overwhelmed by the sensation of Simon's soft lips.

“I love you too,” I whisper in between kisses before I start giggling uncontrollably. No one had ever seen this side of me before Simon, and I doubt anyone else ever will. He's my one chance at getting love right.

His tongue slips into my mouth, and I let him take the lead because he always does, he's Simon Snow and everything around and inside of him is always on fire. I rest my hands on his hips, enjoying the warmth of his body as he breathes his life into me.

He has to break away from the kiss eventually to take a few deep breaths. But he's still smiling, his cheeks have gone pink and his golden skin is glowing in the afternoon sunlight shining in through the window. His lips don’t move farther than a few centimetres away from my face, so I rest my forehead on his and enjoy how close we are to each other.

“Um.. do you perhaps...?” he clears his throat, and I pick up on his body language almost instantly and smirk.

“Do you suggest we move our activities to the bedroom?” I finish the sentence for him. His face flushes even more when I get up from the couch and take him into my arms with ease.

“Precisely,” he nods and his head tilts back as he kisses me again. I stumble through the flat until I reach the bedroom, still holding Simon safely in my arms while I close the bedroom door behind us.

I soon realize that helping Simon unwind after exams might be one of my new favourite activities.

**Author's Note:**

> Might elaborate on the ending if you’d like to know what happened next ;)
> 
> (fun fact: I have no idea what my original plan for this fic was, but I blame school. Anyway, this was a perfect way of procrastinating.)


End file.
